She snatches the money from my fingers and stuffs it into the front pocket of her jeans. “I won’t refuse it.”
Great. Doesn’t even bother with a thank-you. She’s a real prize.
“Maybe I should stick around until Owen comes home.” Mom leans against the kitchen counter, trying her best for nonchalance. I know she’s really trying to get a rise out of me. Again. “I need to spend more time with my baby boy.”
I refrain from rolling my eyes but just barely. “He’s going to his friend’s house after school.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he’s working on a class project with his friend after school. He won’t be home for hours.” I’m totally lying. They worked on the project last night. But I don’t want her lurking around here waiting for Owen and freaking him out. He’s uncomfortable around her.
Pretty sad when a kid doesn’t like being around his mother because she’s so removed from his day-to-day life.
“Great. So I’m not around, you’re not around, what kind of trouble is he getting into if we’re all too busy for him? Stupid kid,” she mutters, shaking her head.
That does it. How dare she criticize Owen? “He’s a child. What do you expect him to do if no one is around to supervise him?”
“Well, where are you?” she accuses.
“I’m working!” The words explode from my chest. “Where the hell are you? Oh, I know, you’re out drinking and doing drugs with your asshole boyfriend. Maybe you’re sleeping in all day when you should be out hunting for a job? When you should be, you know, staying at home so you can be here for your son? Don’t blame me for your inadequacies as a mother. It’s not my fault you have better things to do.”
I’m riled up all over again. No one else does this to me. No one. I’m usually the calm in a storm. I’ll rush to someone’s defense in a heartbeat, but I don’t get worked up easily. I’m also loyal to a fault.
My loyalty to my mom disappeared years ago. I can’t count on her. No one can. She always acts like the victim or blames everyone else for her mistakes. She can’t own up to the fact that she sucks as a mother and she’s lazy.
So I don’t mind reminding her of both.
“I won’t tolerate your disrespect. I am your mother,” she stresses.
“Then act like one.” My voice is calm. Like scary calm. I cross my arms in front of my chest, practically daring her to step into the role she’s supposed to embrace every day of her life. Knowing full well she won’t.
“I don’t need this sort of abuse.” She grabs her purse from where she left it on the coffee table and slings it over her arm, heading toward the door without looking at me once. “You can go to hell, Fable.”
She slams the door behind her and a fall apart. Just…completely fall apart like a crying, out-of-control baby. I curl up on the couch and press my hands to my face, my tears soaking my palms. My entire body is shaking, I’m so angry, so frustrated, so…
Ugh. There are too many emotions coursing through me to try to sort them all out. I’ve gone from the most extreme high to the most extreme low in a matter of minutes and my mind, my heart can’t take it any longer.
Despite my anger, it feels good to cry. It’s a release from all the built up resentment and tumultuous emotions that have been swirling within me the last few months. Hell, the last few years. I don’t know how long I sit here, crying until my chest aches and my eyes sting, when I finally throw back my head and stare up at the ceiling.
My mom hates me and I hate her. I have to reconcile that fact and come to terms with it. I need to protect Owen from her too. I should probably get serious about finding another apartment because I wouldn’t put it past Mom to pull some stunt and somehow screw us out of living here.
There’s a lot to do, but what else is new? I take care of everything and everyone. It doesn’t even occur to me I could’ve asked for help from Drew until this very moment. One text message, one simple word and he would’ve dropped everything and come running to my rescue.
Wouldn’t he?
How I hate that I doubt him even a little bit.
Drew
I’m in the midst of planning a special night for Fable when I get the call from the one person I dread talking to more than any other. I’m so caught up in searching for the right place to take Fable to dinner tonight, I don’t bother checking who’s on the other end when I pick up my cell and answer with a distracted hello.
“Andrew.” Fuck me sideways. The sound of Adele’s voice sends icy shivers down my spine. “I can’t believe you answered.”